My Miracle And My Nightmare. 

I wrote this poem, It’s about how I felt before I fell pregnant. How I coped during my pregnancy and how I felt in hospital emotionally after my traumatic birth.

It’s been a long journey from the day we were told.IVF is the only way we would conceive.

I felt I’d been robbed.

It’s suppose to be natural for a women to get pregnant and have a child isn’t it?

That’s what I thought….

Injections and tests, what a complete mess.

Surgery and meds.

In and out of bed.

Hormones raging.

low, happy, sad and angry.

living on the edge.

Waiting and counting down scan to scan.

Will it work?
So much pain and so much torment.

Will it work? Will it work?
What if it doesn’t?

What do we do if it does?

Can I do this? Can I do that?

Emotionally and mentally exhausting.

We were successful.

We did it, our miracle.
I thought that was it, the worst over and done with.
That’s what I thought……
It didn’t go to plan, months of anxiety. Eating right and doing all the things we should.

Dealing with the sickness, the Pelvic girdle pain and sciatica.

It’s time, it’s time.

She’s coming.

It’s too early, not now!

I’m scared, I’m nervous, excited.

Hearts pounding, we finally get to meet.
It’s all I remember, then it goes blank.

I didn’t see her face or hold her.
Fears, tears, anxiety and pain.

Weeks of trying to live and feel normal again.

I feel so lost.

I feel so low.

I feel so angry like I’m about to blow.

I feel so tense.

Things in my head, they make no sense.

My mind round and round there is no specific sound.Just noise, lots and lots of noise.

I close my eyes.

I see their faces, I see them there, all they do is glare.
I need help, I shout, I cry

They just carry on by.

I feel so alone, I feel so lost.

My mind round and round there is no specific sound.Just noise, lots and lots of noise.

I try to understand

I ask why me? I ask what I did wrong?

I feel so guilty.

I feel I’ve been punished.

It’s like I’m standing in a room screaming.

When I know, I know my face should be beaming.
Is it a dream?
I have a little girl I should be leaping to the ceiling.

She really is my world.

My world.
My world.
What is my world?
Flashbacks and terrors.

Panic attacks and anxiety.

Guilt and stress.

Pain and anger.

Crying all day.

Hatred.

Why me?

My minds a puzzle.

I’m told I have PTSD, PND, PPA.

My mind round and round there is no specific sound.Just noise, lots and lots of noise.

I use to be strong.

I am an emotional mess.

I cant tell one day from the next.

I once knew what I wanted, I had a plan.
Now physical pain, emotional stress.

My life really is a mess.

Two years of physical therapy and counselling,

Here I am.
This experience will always be embedded in my head, probably until the day I am dead.

My mind round and round there is no specific sound.Just noise, lots and lots of noise.

My beautiful girl I love you.
First memories should of been holding you tight. Always remembering your little toes and hands as my first sight.
First memories are muddled, we never did get to cuddle.

I was to weak.

On lots of meds for weeks and weeks.

Days and Weeks went past.

At last, I held you.

So tiny, my miracle. Mixed emotions, why?

Two years have passed, I’ve tried to leave it in the past.

My darling girl please forgive me.

For the days I’ve cried and the days I’ve tried to be happy.

The days I’ve been an emotional mess.

The days you said “oh mummy” and cuddled me, whilst I tried to hide the tears.
I will be strong for you.

I will be the best mum I can be for you.

Just forgive me my darling, my beautiful girl.

I love you
I love you ;

Twitter- @KTMummy

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/kerry-thomas/

https://mummythomasblog.wordpress.com/

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